by C. Gockel
The colonel turned slowly to look over several of Beryl’s people. Rafe took a threatening step toward Nova and was restrained at once. “He took a bullet for you, bitch.”
She regarded him coldly. “He was doing his job,” she said. “And now I’m doing mine.” She turned back to the colonel. “Their smuggling operation caught the attention of the Shri-Lan who inserted their own people among ours, including Nathon Djari. That allowed them to hide explosive materials in the boxes of mince as well as the climber that I was able to disengage.”
“What?” Rafe shouted, outrage and disbelief clear on his face.
“I believe that the siege at Shon Gat was staged to let us assume that the militants had all been expelled from the town. Once they were gone along with any immediate threat of terrorism, the rebels were free to work out the sabotage.” She raised her chin toward Rafe. “Aided by our own people. As you probably guessed, today’s attack on Siolet and the jumpsite was yet another diversion to scatter our forces and give the Shri-Lan agents time to position the explosives around the elevator hub and the lower level.”
The colonel looked over the small crowd gathered here and saw several people nodding while others just threw fearful glances at the disarmed guards. “How long has this been going on?” he said to Rafe.
The men stared back at him, silent.
The colonel turned back to Nova. “And Major Trakkas was aware of all this?”
“Yessir, although I don’t know if he was leading these men or if he was simply a… beneficiary.”
“How did you find all this?”
“By accident,” she said. “But I will also admit that I should have realized much sooner that something… unusual was going on down at the docks. But—”
“That’ll do, Lieutenant,” the colonel said, ready to get over the shock of this revelation. “We will take this from here. Major Eagan, have these men taken away and place a watch on Captain Beryl’s hospital room. Contact Shon Gat and make the appropriate arrangement for Major Trakkas and the ground crew. Have all shipping records for the past year encrypted and delivered up here.” He gestured to the others. “Each of you will make an individual statement with full disclosure. You would not be here if you weren’t prepared to do so, am I correct?”
There were hesitant nods all around, more emphatic once Beryl’s men had been led from the concourse.
He instructed his aide to make cabins available to the arrivals from Bellac before waving Nova aside. She walked with him to the impressive observation window looking out over the grow rings. There was a narrow bench there but she knew that if she sat down now it would be impossible to get up again.
“You’re looking a little peaked, Whiteside,” Thedris said with a smile.
“Been a long day, sir.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “You took risks, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. I have regrets. I allowed myself to be intimidated by these men. I’m not proud of that. I should have—”
He waved that aside. “Learn from it, Whiteside, and move on. The only thing you need to analyze right now are your odds of making Hunter Class. Which are pretty damn good, from what I’ve seen.”
“You’ll approve the application, then?”
“I’m signing off on those remaining hours in the morning. You can leave for Targon on the next transport.”
She sighed deeply. “I won’t let you down, sir.” Her eyes wandered to the cruiser visible through the window. “I’m wondering if I could… I mean, could I… um, take that ship? Next transport isn’t for weeks.”
He looked outside. “Spoils of war, Lieutenant? Promise you’ll wait a few days to get into top shape before you go?”
“Promise. Can I take Lieutenant Rolyn with me as wingman?”
He nodded. “If Dakad concurs.”
“Can I—”
He laughed. “Go to bed, Whiteside. That’s an order.”
Continue the Series
Catalyst, the next book in the Targon Tales series is available now at your favorite vendor. Click Here .
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